Bug Food (a hate sonnet)

[just mercedes]

The petals that in summer charmed the bees,
and drew them salsa dancing from their hive, great metaphor
still hang, but like a patient who alive
lives only as a hostel for disease, I understand the simile but wonder if it could be improved
unconscious, left too weak to send his pleas
of barter up to God, they won’t survive.
They’ll bend at last to take the autumn dive;
they’ll droop and sag to snag the harvest breeze. this is a little unclear to me. I think your extended metaphor is working really well, but 'snag the harvest breeze' doesn't really describe what happens at  the end of the flower's life cycle

That’s something, isn’t it? The way they fade,
and whither up as bug food, then as dust? very effective, using a question to mark the volta. I like direct address in a poem. 'wither' is the verb you want, I think. I wanted to read 'to bug food' 'to dust'
I only smile at them cause of you: 'because of you' to keep the meter constant
because I know one day, you’ll be afraid…
you’ll notice that you also wilt, and just
how short the time till you are bug food too. effective ending, if a little brutal - but it makes me understand the title, and the writer's sadness and acceptance of the natural order of life

Good writing. I have watched a loved one die slowly, and for me you have nailed the process, and the thoughts of those in attendance. A difficult subject, and a difficult form, and you have handled both with ease, it seems. Thank you for posting this.